


Vegeta & Bulma One Shots

by pdeveraoficial



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Couple, Evolution, F/M, Forgiving, Human, Intimacy, Love, Marriage, Moments, Romance, Saiyan, dragon ball kai - Freeform, learning, one shots, relationship, scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-05-20 23:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdeveraoficial/pseuds/pdeveraoficial
Summary: How is it possible that two creatures as different as Vegeta and Bulma Briefs came together? Discover it through these 10 One Shots set in DBZ / DB Kai (from the end of Freezer to the end of Buu). Paula de Vera. Cc No Commercial Safecreative.





	1. The Long-Term Guest

The night had recently fallen over Capsule Corp. and the home of his new hosts, but Vegeta felt unable to sleep. 

It was true that he had accepted the proposal to stay from that strange blue-haired young woman, but the kindness they all had dispensed him when he arrived… damn, it almost made him nauseous. After all, the first time he came to Earth ready to destroy it. So short of memory were they?

Not that he didn't appreciate the lucky turn of events - he wasn't stupid. But such mawkish signs of acceptance (especially from the hysterical blonde a.k.a. mother of the blue-haired one) almost pushed him to run out and seek refuge in the forest. 

Anywhere on Earth is better than this place, he had tried to convince himself. 

However, when they showed him his bedroom and he was able to take a shower for the first time in many days, he reflected coldly and decided that living like a king was what he was destined to be since he was born. Why miss the opportunity? 

Besides, if it was true that they wanted to bring Kakarot back to life, he could try to spy on his former comrades to find out their weaknesses and use it against them. But first, he should become Super Saiyan himself... And, after the shameful defeat in Namek, he had to admit, honestly, that he had no idea how to accomplish that. Beyond skinning himself training, of course - What else he could do?

When he went back to get dressed, again in his bedroom, the Saiyan found the disgusting fact that he had only the punctured flexible overall and the armour that he had managed to rescue from Freezer's ship in Namek. He snorted loudly, hating the idea of having to wear human clothes. For the moment, he would have to content himself with that garment. The last vestige, he thought bitterly, of what it had been until less than a day before.

As the boots were being sheathed, Vegeta heard a knock on the door and immediately stood guard.

“Who's there?” he asked harshly.

A second of doubt and then an unfortunately known voice was heard on the other side:

“It’s Bulma. May I come in?”

Vegeta sighed, barely repressing several bad words that were struggling to get out of his mouth - Why couldn't they leave him alone, damn them all? 

However, he was surprised when, like a robot, he stood up, opened the door and peered out only half a face. Would he have gone mad? Would his death and subsequent resurrection (blessed Dragon Balls) in Namek have so deranged him?

“What do you want?” he waved to the newcomer, keeping any possible reflection of his thoughts under a dark grimace.

She seemed somewhat coy, which pleased the Saiyan. But his attention was immediately diverted to what she carried in her hands, as his belly protested loudly.

“Well... I... “ 

The young woman lifted the tray full of food, smiling while her cheeks turned into bright red. 

“I assumed you'd be hungry; and since you didn't come down for dinner...”

Vegeta squinted, not answering at first. His interior was torn between the desire to be alone and the delicious smell of food that the pathetic human had brought him, in exchange for nothing.

“All right" 

The Saiyan gave in, opening the door a little more to make room for the young woman. 

“Come in and leave the food there," he spat. “And then get out.”

In spite of his rough words, Bulma obeyed without complaint, putting the things from the tray over the side table in the bedroom. One by one, before hugging the metal plate against her and walking back to the door.

“Good night" she muttered, barely looking at him - more out of habit than anything else.

Nevertheless, when Vegeta heard that, he noticed a kind of invisible punch hitting his ribs. Something that, unwittingly, indicated to him that he should at least be a little bit nicer to her. Give her back the formula... Whatever! Instead, only the thing that had been burning inside him, since the two of them had first met in the woods, came out of his mouth after that:

“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, focusing on the girl's back.

She seemed to take her time to answer, turning slowly, with her hands still clutching the tray, and finally staring at him.

“Honestly I don’t know" she admitted, with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. “But I guess that's what I do when someone lands on my planet with nowhere else to go" 

She shrugged in a way that caused a curious shudder to the young Saiyan. 

“But... you're free to go whenever you want. You know that, don't you?”

Vegeta squinted, but did not respond. He only saw the girl's back disappear through the doorway a few seconds later. When he was left alone in the gloom of his improvised new bedroom, he exhaled sharply and stared out the window, thoughtful. Even if she hadn't mentioned it, he had begun to remember clearly the first moment they had met. He, from his position, had threatened to kill her if that damn bald dog - Krilin? didn't give him the Dragon Ball. 

The Saiyan clenched his fists. If those two tadpoles had not gone on their own.... Vegeta felt the rage consuming furiously his guts... He could have done it... It could have been... The young brunet man clenched his teeth and cursed from underneath, turning away from the window. It was no longer worth regretting. Freezer was dead. Kakarot too, even if they wanted to resurrect him along with the others with the new Dragon Balls. He'd just have to wait for a chance. 

He smiled slightly with ill-concealed greed as he contemplated that option. Yeah, I'd wait. And then, well, it was obvious what was going to happen, wasn't it?

***

As soon as she lost sight of her ‘particular’ guest, Bulma sighed loudly and felt her body relaxing immediately, almost to the point of dropping the empty tray carried between her hands. Luckily, she was able to juggle in time to prevent the strident metal from hitting the ground - she didn’t want Vegeta to have any reason to go out into the hallway and mock her... Again. The young woman frowned and shook her head, annoyed, as her steps led her down to the lower floor. What did that conceit think? She was just being nice, of course, but she could have left him in the woods like the mangy dog he was, just for some wild beast to devour him. Wasn't she? After all, if Yamcha and the others were dead, it was his only fault... 

Yamcha. 

Bulma stopped woodenly while thinking about him. Was it possible...? 

But how... 

Not at all. In fact, after rummaging inside her feelings, Bulma discovered with some astonishment that there was not much trace of the affection she had had for her old and deceased boyfriend. It was as if... Well, as if his death had diluted her feelings, which mixed with the mourning, left only a curious longing that had nothing to do with the love she had for him before.

Almost unwittingly, Bulma turned her head to look sidelong at Vegeta's closed door, before turning her eyes rudely to the front and shaking her short blue mane forcefully. 

No, not at all. Vegeta? Him? Come on, Bulma, no way...

However, as she continued her journey to the kitchen, the young woman remembered at that moment one of her strange dreams from the last few days, while a strange knot seized her stomach. 

That's never going to happen, she told herself mentally for the umpteenth time, kissing Vegeta is as far off my list of priorities as…  
Bulma clenched her teeth, trying to think of the most unpleasant situation she could face. But all of a sudden, it was as if her mind was blank. 

Oh, my God, does it even make a difference? she resolved, internally furious, as she arrived at the kitchen and threw the tray violently over the counter. 

“That will never happen, full stop," she said out loud, frowning and fully convinced.

“What will never happen?”

“AH!”

Bulma jumped immediately as a spring, upon realizing there was someone else, and turned around, ready to deny everything. But she slowed down when she realized the newcomer was her father.

“Daddy! What...? What are you doing here this late at night?”

Dr. Briefs put on his glasses calmly before entering the kitchen in the dark and turning on the lights.

“Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything, Bulma? You look a little pale...”

The girl swallowed saliva forcefully, while Vegeta's image kept spinning in her head with the energy of a hurricane.

“N... No, nothing. Really" she pretended, smiling with even more conviction. “I was just coming down to leave the tray of... Well, you know. The crazy Saiyan that we have decided to take home" she excused herself. “But now... I'm going..." she sang as she advanced towards the door with the pose of innocence intact. “To bed! Good night, Dad!” she shouted as she disappeared at full speed down the corridor.

Dr. Briefs, for his part, stared in astonishment at the place where his daughter had disappeared before turning to look at the kitchen, confused, and repeating:

"That ‘we’ have taken home?"


	2. You, React!

Almost 2 years later...

That night Bulma went up to the upper terrace of Capsule Corp to enjoy a bit of the night breeze and try to get away from everything. Her father and mother, as well as her friends, had tried their best to help; but she understood their dilemma: they were also Yamcha's friends and, in spite of everything, they were not sure to whom they owed loyalty. 

Bulma tried again not to cry, hopelessly. It had been almost two months since then and it still hurt as if she broke up with him the day before. 

“What do I do so badly that I always fall in love with the wrong man?” she bitterly asked herself. "I will never find the ideal one at this step..."

The door of the terrace opened at that moment, cutting the thread of her thoughts like if it was hit with a stroke. The young woman stood up, alert. Vegeta had appeared in the terrace’s access, observing her with that eternal grim expression on his face. Bulma grunted in disgust and looked away. She had hardly seen him in the last few weeks, but the last thing she wanted was to argue with him again - like every time they met for more than 5 minutes. Shee had already lost count of his rebuffs throughout those two years since he had returned from space. And, at that precise moment, Bulma was not exactly in the mood to endure them any longer.

The Saiyan, on the other hand, seemed a little cut off at the sight of the company, but finally decided to put his feet on the terrace and let the door close silently behind him.

“So, it's you," he said as if the intruder were Bulma.

She turned around with biting air.

“Oh, you seem surprised" she replied heartily. “Well, I guess it's the usual stuff, finding me around, as we are in ‘my’ house. So...”

Vegeta looked surprised at her bitter response but said nothing. He just kept a prudent distance from her and leaned over the railing too, looking out into the garden.

The two remained silent, with the only company of the crickets squeaking between the flowerbeds, until Bulma opened his mouth again:

“May I ask you something, Vegeta?”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Her tone was no longer aggressive but filled with curiosity.

“What?” he replied, cautious.

Bulma, nevertheless, played a little with her necklace between her fingers before releasing an answer. 

“Do they...? Did the Saiyan women exist? You know... Before...”

“Yes, I know what you mean" he cut it rudely, between annoyed and strange. "And yes, of course they existed. What kind of question is that?”

Bulma smiled, a bit dazed. She had already supposed that it was going to be a strange topic to talk about with Vegeta. But at that moment she couldn't help but feel a certain curiosity. Maybe a banal subject like that could distract her from darker thoughts.

“And... what were they like?”

Vegeta grunted, barely containing the pain of the memory of her mother or some of his childhood female companions, dead because of Freezer.

“There was nothing special about them" he lied, at last, trying to avoid the subject as much as possible, before apostilling out of habit, "like human women, I suppose.”

Bulma squinted, not believing him for a second and swallowing the desire to slap him right there, before turning around and leaning her back against the railing.

“I must confess that you intrigue me, Vegeta" she admitted, almost to herself, as she stared at the night sky without real interest.

However, Vegeta heard it perfectly. Unwittingly and as Bulma supposed, his ego immediately prevailed over any other rational thought, causing the Saiyan to show half pleased smile in return.

“That tends to happen quite often" he recognized, without looking at her, before adding in a dry tone, “but my life is mine, alone, and no one else needs to care about it”.

Bulma tilted her head with a certain sadness, glancing sideways at him.

“I don't think that's true," she softly replied. 

The Saiyan turned to her, intrigued - What did she mean? 

The girl, for her part, approached slowly. 

“You've been very lonely, Vegeta. And you're still alone”

“I like being alone" he scolded, uncomfortable.

She was getting closer and closer. Horrified, the Saiyan found that he was unable to get away from her trajectory. It was as if his boots were bolted to the floor and he could do nothing to prevent the crash between them.

“That's what you're saying, but it's not true," Bulma insisted. Her eyes showed tiredness, but also a gleam of sweetness that Vegeta had feared for years since some of their first encounters: the hint of her solidarity towards him. 

The young woman approached him only until being just ten centimetres away, embracing her body as if she was cold. 

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I'm not afraid of anything!” he exploded. “And you, wretched human, you are not worthy of me having to give you...!”

All of a sudden, he was interrupted when he noticed that something soft was blocking his lips - he didn’t see it coming. While he was bursting in anger, she had come all the way close and she...

Time seemed to stand still for three seconds before Vegeta moved away, rougher than necessary, and retreated even further while looking at Bulma as if she was a poisonous insect rather than an innocent young woman. She just held his gaze, shaking like a leaf inside and not quite believing what she had just done, while he seemed to shiver uncontrollably for the same reason.

“What the...?” Vegeta stammered, feeling his lips palpitate. “How...? Have you...?”

The words refused to come out of his throat. Before he could settle down, Bulma turned to the door after shaking her head in an indefinite gesture. Vegeta would have wanted to yell at her, insult her or even make her pay for that outrageous kiss - but that's where he stayed: watching how she was going. Listening to her last words when, by the door of the terrace, Bulma turned and said to him, without harsh:

“You know, Vegeta? There does seem to be something scary for you in the Universe. But until you can admit it, I'll leave you alone”.

One second after that, the confused Saiyan was once again left alone in front of the stars. Asking to himself, or even to them, what the hell had just happened and what was that strange tingling in the pit of his stomach.

“Your imaginations” he called himself back, angrily.

Maybe the next day he'd stop thinking nonsense, after a nice sleep. 

However, Vegeta was unable to fall asleep that night, as many of those that followed, while his lips burned with the fire of that strange kiss from the blue-haired woman. The most pleasant, being completely honest, that anyone had given him in his whole life.


	3. A point of no return (Part I)

Almost two weeks passed without Bulma and Vegeta almost speaking to each other, to the astonishment of all the inhabitants of Capsule Corp. They crossed paces the corridor, looked at each other briefly and passed each other as if the other did not exist. However, when they both fell on their respective beds at night, neither could fall asleep, thinking of the other one. 

Bulma felt still hurt by Yamcha's betrayals and, at the same time, she was frustrated by Vegeta's attitude. Fact: kissing him had only been an attempt to get him to finally react and drop his eternal armour of ‘impassive-selfish-warrior’, but the result had been a bit more bitter than expected. 

Wanted or not, she liked to kiss him. Glueing their lips was like an electric shock, even more, powerful than any power burst that he launched in battle. Never, with any of her previous boyfriends, had she felt anything similar.

For a hundredth of a second, Bulma had been tempted to stay there, clinging to him forever. But the reality was painfully imposed and the rejection, although not unexpected and even if Bulma was not willing to give more importance, still stung in the bottom of her heart as an open wound. 

Bulma turned between the sheets for the umpteenth time and looked up at the wall in front of her, barely containing the tears. Further on, just fifteen meters away, Vegeta should be sleeping already. What would he be feeling? 

Duh, I don't care, do I? she chided herself mentally with harshness.

Vegeta was, undoubtedly, the most stubborn, rude, interested and egomaniacal man she had ever met. 

So why did she feel that tingling in her lower belly every time she saw his silhouette in the distance? 

Bulma drowned a groan against the pillow. That couldn't be happening to her, not yet. 

You're not ready, you're not ready... 

That was the mantra that she repeated herself, over and over again, even more so after the play on the terrace. She did not know why, but Vegeta awakened her most basic instincts, both in the light and in the dark. Despite his sullen and detached character, Bulma always felt the need to help him. From the first day, she saw him. It was something she had never been able to repress. 

Despite her frequent protests when her male companions -Goku, Gohan, Krilin- did not meet her expectations and wishes, Bulma had never felt able to deny her help to anyone who needed it - if it was in his power to do something. And every time she thought of Vegeta she perceived that the bullet had hit the target painfully. Under that thick layer of indifference, that furrowed brow and that rabid expression, something else was hidden.

Bulma sighed and got out of bed. She needed to breathe some fresh air. So she didn't think twice before going into the hallway and opening the door. 

What she didn't expect was to find him there at the same time.

***

“Stupid damned thing" ground Vegeta for the umpteenth time as he went into his bedroom that evening, slamming the door shut violently. 

He had just returned from training and the anger had become apparent when he had found that he was not able to concentrate in any way. Different images of Bulma returned to his brain at every single moment, invading his consciousness and causing him to make absurd… and quite painful mistakes. 

In those two hours, he had accidentally scorched both arms as he tried to hold a ball of uncontrolled energy, unsuccessfully. He had almost dislocated a wrist doing push-ups, and he had got injured on an ankle as he stumbled upon a stone. In all those moments, the blissful blue-haired young woman had burst into his brain without warning. And, above all, there was this persistent sensation on his lips from the kiss on the terrace.

What the hell was wrong with him? And what the hell was she trying to do? Was she thinking, by any chance, that he was going to stoop to be with a human just because perhaps he didn't have any kind of self-control? It was true that she had quite an acceptable body that he had been admiring in silence for almost two years, but from then on to later...

Deep down, although he wouldn't admit it under torture, Vegeta was terrified of that possibility. He convinced himself every day on how much he hated humans and specially Kakarot, his rival Saiyan who had already managed to cross the barrier and evolve into Super Saiyan. In that dull grudge, he shielded himself daily when he went out to train, flagellating himself with that blonde, light-eyed image that should have corresponded to him instead of dying like an idiot at the hands of Freezer. And if the brat with violet hair was mentioned...

He clenched his teeth hard again, barely containing his rage. He had to concentrate on not dying when the androids arrived two years later.

“Tsch" he grumbled, "Kakarot was weak enough to procreate with a human, and look how the play went....”

Although he had to admit that Gohan, apart from the immense latent power that he possessed and, for some reason, was not able to use correctly, was a very clever child. He had managed to trick him that time with the dragon radar thing. Vegeta snorted. And he still had no idea how another creature of Saiyan blood could exist... Though, if he was coming from the future... Would it be another son of Kakarot? It seemed unlikely: both he and Gohan's hysterical mother were dark-haired and dark-eyed. 

So...?

He shook his head, exhausted. He was in a mess and the walls of the bedroom seemed to want to imprison him, along with his will to dominate the world. He needed to breath fresh air before he would become a sad dummy at the mercy of humans. He had to be able to think.

But what he didn't expect, when he opened the door, was for her to come out of her bedroom at that very moment.

(To be continued...)


	4. A point of no return (Part II)

Time seemed to stop for a moment between the two as they stared at each other with mixed feelings.

“What...?”

“… Are you doing here?”

The two had spoken the words almost at once. The scene would have been comical, had it not been for the tension in the air, that could be cut with a knife.

“I needed some fresh air" Bulma replied, trying to maintain a calm, cold pose that was far from being felt. “And you?”

Vegeta emitted a short sound that could be assumed as a small derogatory laugh.

“None of your business, woman”

To his dismay, after a few seconds, Bulma imitated him and raised her arms in a sign that looked like surrender - it was not.

“No, of course not. I had forgotten!" the young woman scoffed, not without a certain veiled bitterness. “The affairs of "Your Highness" are never my business!”

As was to be expected in the face of that mockery, plus when it appealed to his Royal condition, Vegeta's blood burned in a thousandth of a second.

“Damn human," he rebuked. “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?”

Bulma, far from being frightened and long since immunized against the Saiyan's tantrums, planted her feet firmly on the ground and placed her arms in jugs, defiantly.

“Who am I, you ask me?”. She pointed at him with an accusing finger while speaking. “Then, I'll tell you, you arrogant bastard. I am the person who welcomed you three years ago when no one else gave half a cent for you; when any of the others would have left you to rot in the middle of the forest in solitude. The only being that, instead of that, when you decided to return a year and a half later, gave you a roof for shelter, food, clothes and bed...”  
“I didn't ask you to do all that!” he yelled back. “And don't think I have forgotten my promises!” Vegeta took two steps towards her, threatening, but Bulma merely held his gaze coldly and folded her arms as he continued his diatribe. “Someday, I will become Super Saiyan, I will defeat Kakarot and I will rule over the Universe! And you would not be able to prevent it!”

For his biggest anger, Bulma, instead of feeling frightened, let out a short, biting laugh.

“Oh, sure! I forgot!” she sneered at him. “The great Vegeta is going to follow the bloodthirsty tradition of its ancestors and wipe out everything! Well then, you know what?” she asked, furious, also approaching two steps.

“What?” he snapped, letting himself to be provoked, blind with rage.

Bulma clenched her fists and moved closer to him until they were at the right distance for her to be able to slap him, merciless. After a few seconds that became eternal, Vegeta turned to look at her, bewildered. The young woman gasped, but there was no hint of fear in her clear eyes. There was just... disappointment. And the Saiyan saw it with a clarity as painful as if a ray of sunshine burned his retinas.

“I don't think you're man enough to do it" Bulma shouted without worrying that anyone would listen to her, as she approached him with her face contracted and close to tears. 

A desperate and frustrated cry for that man who, she must have known, deserved nothing on her part, nor a minimal thought; but she could not help it. 

“Deep down, you're nobody, and you never will be. You're just an idiot who thinks to be the king of the world; the big chief rooster. Deep down, all you deserve is pity" she said, impotent. “Damn it! I'm tired of trying to help you get ahead, of worrying about you every time you hurt yourself, or of being treated like nobody else; not when all I want is for you to be fine here, with us!”

She wiped his tears with one hand and whimpered, looking away and moving a few inches away from him. 

“Shit...”

The Saiyan, meanwhile, remained paralyzed in place while the girl stood up to leave, no longer holding back tears. 

Men. They were all the same. For a very absurd second, she regretted everything about Vegeta: letting him into her house and her life; putting up with all his nonsense. He was just a useless, with an intemperate...

“Bulma," he said then behind her back, surprisingly, while a manly hand clutched her wrist decisively. “Wait”.

The young woman turned around, trying somehow violently to escape from his grip. But in her nebula of pain, she did not realize that she had not the strength of Vegeta... nor anticipated what would happen next.

As if he were a magnet, the Saiyan lured her towards him and joined their mouths in a way that made Bulma tremble from head to toe. It wasn't a tender kiss - far from it. But it gave off such strength and such contained need that the young woman, without thinking twice and forgetting her tears, gave it back to him. 

When she inserted her tongue into Vegeta's mouth, he slowly released her wrist and she ran her arms around his neck, entangling her fingers in his thick bush of jet-black hair. He smelled of sweat mixed with something indefinite, but it unwittingly reminded her of Namek's air. Suddenly, as one of the Saiyan's arms was girded parallel to his back, pressing her tighter against his marble chest, Bulma decided that this particular scent, despite everything that had happened in that damn planet, was delightful.

The couple stayed a long time there in the corridor, recognizing in detail the nooks and crannies of the mouth and body of the other, before Bulma, in a gasp, whispered:  
“Vegeta...”

“What?” he answered against her lips, still hugging her like a rock to hold on to when the tide tries to drag you to the bottom of the sea and finish you off.

Bulma swallowed nervously.

“I think... we should...”

Imprisoned in his embrace, she gestured as she could towards the door of her room. Vegeta followed the direction indicated with the eyes and, without further ado, lifted Bulma off the ground and held her against his body as he advanced. She, after the initial surprise, embraced his perfect body with arms and legs as their lips rejoined. Kind of blindly, the Saiyan managed to get through the door hole into the dark bedroom and close behind him.

From that moment on, the scene became little less than a wild struggle between two creatures, moved only by an ardent desire that never seemed to fade away, no matter what they did. After hurriedly undressing, lacking some practice, their bodies docked entangled on Bulma's mattress, between panting and moaning; again and again, without thinking too much about the possible consequences. 

Lying on the sheets, Vegeta held and caressed the young woman's breasts with both hands, as if they were two jewels about to disappear from his sight. She nibbled his lips, earlobes, and neck, almost as his whispered name escaped from between her lips without Bulma being able to avoid it. Vegeta's body passed over and over under her fingertips; muscled, perfect and deliciously sweated, as he rocked over her body at a steady but frenetic pace. The pleasure was increasingly intense, hence Bulma thought she was going to faint hopelessly when the climax finally traversed every fibre of her body and soul. 

As if it had been a sign, Vegeta came in that instant with an almost agonizing moan. After a few seconds in which they could barely catch their breath, with a deep sigh they both collapsed on top of the mattress, side by side, looking at the ceiling and not daring to look at their lover.

“Wow…” whispered Bulma, surprised, when she was finally able to refocus, before smiling unintentionally and looking sideways at Vegeta.

"Yes..." he replied, exhausted, opening one eye in her direction. “Although we both know this shouldn't have happened”.

Bulma laid sideways on the mattress, covering her naked body with the sheet.

“Huh? What do you mean?” she asked, curious.

Vegeta grunted, insecure, before settling in and looking up at the ceiling.

“I know what happened with Yamcha.”

Bulma narrowed her eyes. What was the point of bringing out his ex?

“Leave Yamcha alone" she said, a little irritated. “This is between you and me”.

“I don't follow you" admitted the Saiyan without changing an inch of his face.

She, for her part, rolled her eyes.

“Vegeta. We're both adults" she said slowly, “and… I think we can give this the importance we want. It's clear we're not new at it, and... I...”

The young woman ran a lock of hair behind her ear, dazed, before continuing.

“That was pretty good. But... I can understand... That you don't want this...”

It was a lie and Bulma knew it. But, at that moment, it did not bother her so much as she would have thought the fact that her sudden affair with the Saiyan was just… well, ‘compassion sex’. It would be a mistake. Painful, but just a mistake in the end - and she will finally recover. She always did.

Vegeta, for his part, clenched his fists under the sheet and looked away, indecisive. He would be an idiot if he didn't admit that he had enjoyed sleeping with her, but he didn't want to face the possibility that someone around would find out... That he'd be tried for it. He couldn't afford it... Could he? Was he willing to give in and give up everything for an earthling and her precious sapphire eyes?

We can give it the importance we want.

For the first time and after reflection, Vegeta showed a slight hint of a smile and got up to get dressed, turning his back on the young woman.

“All right, Bulma. We'll give it the exact importance, no less, no more. Is that all right with you?”

The young woman watched his train back and the small remnant of his ape's tail, which stood out as a powerful focus on the base of his tanned back, while he dressed, meditating. Vegeta didn't turn around either when he didn't get an immediate response. However, when he was about to retire from the bedroom, Bulma called him:

“Vegeta”

This one turned a few centimetres, expectant. She stood up a bit and, hugging her knees still covered by the sheet, said a phrase that would change the future of both of them forever:

“Come back whenever you want. Okay?”


	5. Yes, but no

That morning Bulma woke up as if it were any other day. She stretched out still sitting on the bed, smiled at the radiant sun coming through the window and slowly lowered her feet to the floor, groping for her slippers with her toes. Unintentionally, her eyes turned to the other side of the bed and then to the door. As usual, Vegeta left the bed before she fell asleep. 

Bulma sighed deeply and thoughtfully. It was true that they had only been sleeping together for a couple of months, and that the Saiyan looked like two different people when he was with her or in front of other earthlings - but the young woman still felt that there was something wrong. The nights they could gather in her room, or the occasions when they could trick the Briefs and escape to some remote corner of the surroundings were so idyllic that Bulma almost stopped feeling like she was in the real world. Not that Vegeta was a paragon of romanticism, quite the opposite; but if the desire satisfied all their need to be together, without having to use too many words... 

It was true that the young woman had tried to go a step further and, at least, have a conversation with him; to try - who knows! To get him to open his heart a little more and therefore get to know him better. But it was somewhat frustrating to see that, with almost all the topics, Vegeta would end up closing like an oyster and, until the temperature between them rose again, he would remain tense and with his gaze absent. They had had a little discussion a couple of weeks earlier when Bulma finally dared to face him and tell him to stop treating her like a simple sexual object. After that, he had gone two days without speaking to her and she had done the same. Until, of course, they had both fallen back into temptation.

From then on, Bulma assumed that Vegeta could be an adequate distraction while her heart overcame Yamcha's successive betrayals, trying not to delude herself any further. But the million-dollar question was: why did her stomach flutter and her cheeks light up just by seeing him appear? Why was she wishing that, whatever it was, he would come back from training every night and they could surrender to each other, no matter what else?

Bulma rubbed her eyes wearily before finally deciding to lift her butt off the mattress, get dressed, wash up in front of the mirror and head out of the bedroom, determined - that night she would talk to Veget. And if their affair had to end, so be it. 

However, when she arrived in the kitchen and saw everyone present -her father, mother, Puar, Yamcha- Bulma felt almost as if she had her sin face-painted.

“Honey, are you all right?” Dr Brief asked, worried while approaching her. “Come, sit down and have a drink.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Dad," Bulma accepted, while her internal radar was still looking for the person who she wanted to see less and more at the same time. “Has anyone seen Vegeta?”

Bulma wanted to be swallowed by the Earth immediately when she felt the piercing glances of the other four on her face.

They know…, she moaned to herself. That's it. Let’s see...

“I think he left early this morning to train, as usual" said Dr Brief, calmly. “I don't think he'll be back until nightfall.”

“He's so handsome! Isn't he, Bulma?”

That comment from her blonde mother shook the body of the referred to as an electric shock, while her face reddened like a mature grenade.

“What? What...? Handsome? Come on! What...? What do you say? I don't even like...! Anyway, you know...!” 

Bulma realized, maybe too late, that her attempt to conceal was almost causing the opposite impression to the one intended. For this reason, she finally chose to fold her arms and turn away her nose in a false scornful attitude, shaking from inside like a leaf. 

“That shabby idiot doesn't deserve a second of my thoughts”, she stated.

The other four exchanged a strange look but opted to let it go. After all, it is not that that was the least extended concept about the Saiyan in that house. Bulma, trying to maintain her composure with difficulty, thanked her mother just afterwards for bringing her a cup of coffee. Just what she needed. 

However, as soon as the sometimes pleasant and inspiring smell of the drink reached her nostrils, the young woman noticed a strong cramp in her stomach, followed by intense nausea that made her run out of the kitchen, directly towards the nearest toilet. 

The vomiting was almost nil, but Bulma noticed how she got dizzy more and more at times. What was going on? Luckily, the others had followed her urgently to the toilet and her father was the first to come when he saw the girl trying to sit up unsuccessfully, holding her when she almost hit her knees on the floor again.

“Bulma, dear! Honey!” her mother squealed, scared. “Are you okay?”

The young woman outlined, with some effort, what was meant to be a reassuring smile. 

“Yes, Mom. Don't worry about it. I guess something must have made me feel bad about yesterday's dinner.”

“Come on, I'll walk you to your room to rest and I'll do you some tests," said Dr Brief, solicitous.

Bulma nodded, not without first detecting a strange gesture in her father that warned her greatly. 

What did her father think it could be?

***

The night was already falling over Capsule Corp. when Vegeta returned, proud as a peacock, from a day of training that could be described as round. Who knew that banging Bulma from time to time could lift his mood so much. The truth was, that it had been so many years since he had enjoyed such a pleasure, much less with someone as devoted and solicitous as her. Vegeta had almost thought himself incapable of keeping up the pace. But - What the hell! He was the prince of the Saiyan! Who could doubt it?

So engrossed was he in his increased ego nebula that, neither as he entered the building, nor as he came out of the shower, nor as he walked into his hallway, did he notice that something was wrong. Only when he met Yamcha on the stairs and he almost ran him over, immersed in his thoughts, did Vegeta return to reality, paying it off with his hated and old rival for Bulma's attentions.

“Hey, scum! Watch where you're going!”

Yamcha turned slowly as if he hadn't heard right. Vegeta smiled, anticipating the possibility of giving his deserved one to that brat for once and for all. But Bulma’s ex-boyfriend, after a few seconds of holding his gaze coldly, just shook his head and turned to leave as if nothing had happened. Vegeta, of course, felt the blood boil before that rebuff.

“Hey, hey! Don't you dare leave me with the word in my mouth, you, wretch! Look at me when I'm talking to you!”

For a tense second, Yamcha seemed like he hadn't even heard it. But then he braked slowly, barely turned his chin to look at the smug Saiyan over his shoulder and spat at him:

“Frankly, Vegeta: here and now you are the least of my worries.”

Under normal conditions, the alien prince would have jumped on the young earthling and punched him until he had to beg for him to stop. But a sudden chill, mild as a winter breeze, rose up to his spine at Yamcha's words, causing him a very unpleasant sensation. Suddenly, Vegeta had a very bad feeling.

“What did you mean?” he asked, uneasy on the inside but struggling to maintain the integrity of his angry pose on the outside. “Hey!" he rebuked when he saw that Yamcha was about to set out again, without even making a case for him. “Yamcha!”

The young martial artist there did stop and turn around.

“What?” he replied, cold as ice.

Vegeta snorted, trying to barely maintain self-control without much success.

“What... has... happened?” he was able to articulate, clenching his teeth.

Yamcha continued to look at him with the same frost glittering in his dark eyes.  
“Do you want me to tell you, then? “Yamcha asked, enjoying himself inside as he saw the frustration of the Saiyan as he nodded slowly. 

He would never have attributed to the alien warrior feelings, at least beyond contempt for any other creature. But to see him suffer from uncertainty was a juicy reward in return for having murdered him almost five years ago. 

“Well, I'll tell you. This morning Bulma fell sick. But I guess you don't care about that like you don’t care about everyone else in this house.”

Vegeta was paralyzed, while an unpleasant drop of sweat fell from his hair to his neck, sliding down his spine - Bulma… sick? 

He clenched his fists and turned, not wanting Yamcha to see the storm of emotions that must be reflected on his face. 

Damn it, he thought, angry. So that’s how she managed to spoil the day, that damn...?

He wanted to have thought of a strong word like; for example, ‘whore.’ But, if a few weeks before he had been able to do it naturally, now it was as if his brain was refusing roundly to do it. Vegeta shook his head as he walked down the corridor, ignoring Yamcha's acid ‘You're welcome!’ and moving like an automaton up the stairs to the top floor. 

What was happening to him?

It was only when he reached his bedroom door that he realized he had come running. At that moment, Dr Brief was leaving Bulma's room and their glances crossed. Vegeta tried not to let his face show any of what he was feeling, but he did it terribly; and he realized since the good doctor told him, while passing by his side and in a strange tone that made bristle the hair on Vegeta’s neck:

“Bulma has to rest, so leave her alone for today. Okay?”

The Saiyan remained petrified in the middle of the corridor, unable to return to normal until he had not been standing there for several minutes like kind of a stupid statue, but with his eyes fixed on Bulma's door. His interior debated, for no apparent reason, between obeying Bulma's father and going to sleep in his room... Or entering to see her. 

Are you stupid? shouted his darkest part, incredulous. 

Probably, he replied to himself, as his steps led him a few feet further and he reached for the doorknob.


	6. What's happening to me?

The room, so familiar to him from the last two months sleeping with Bulma, was in darkness. Between the sheets of the large bed, a shrunken silhouette seemed to sleep. Vegeta gulped and turned around to leave. He should not have to...

“Vegeta?”

_Oh, shit._

____

__

Slowly, the Saiyan turned to look at the silhouette that, half incorporated, faced him with a drowsy expression, under the dim light coming from the corridor. 

“They told me you were sick" he said, stunned about himself. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”

In the dim light, Vegeta felt his heart overturn when Bulma smiled halfway. 

_Damn it, dude... Damn it, _grumbled that dark voice back into his soul.__

____

____

_Don't even mention it, _he spiked to his rational side with acidity, causing the first entity to take refuge in the shadows again.__

____

____

How could that option even pass through his head?

“You are too sweet, Vegeta" Bulma thanked, drawing him out of his black reflection. “Thank you.”

Vegeta nodded before watching his feet move into the bedroom as if they had their own will, horrified of himself. As the door closed, both were almost in the dark, but Bulma struggled to get up and sit with her knees bent under the sheets. The Saiyan sat on the edge of the bed, feeling that he had lost his head.

“Your father told me not to come in, but you know how badly I am given to take orders" he joked unintentionally and before he could restrain his tongue.

Bulma looked at him with her head tilted to the side.

“Well, I'm sorry I ruined tonight's fun" she continued jokingly, as their gazes crossed in the dark. “How was your training day?”

Vegeta gulped again. That situation was getting out of hand and he couldn't get out of there by just slamming the door behind. Why?

“Well. As always, you know" he replied, distracted. “Did they... did they tell you what you have?”

From the corner of his eye, he barely saw the movement of her shrugging her shoulders in ignorance.

“Not yet, but my father says he will have the results tomorrow”. Both were then left in uncomfortable and insecure silence before Bulma spoke again. “Hey, Vegeta...”

“What?”

That was wrong. Strictly wrong. He had to leave before...

“Do you mind...?”. Bulma tossed her curls back, indecisive. “...Stay with me tonight?”

Vegeta froze at that request before turning slowly to scan the gloom that concealed her. I could barely see Bulma; and, luckily, she couldn't see him either.

“Tsch" he clicked his tongue in a typical gesture. “Really? Do I look like a nurse to you or what?”

Whether he liked it or not, that rude question caused Bulma's tone to change suddenly to boredom when she pronounced:

“Oh, you're not being serious, are you?”

Vegeta folded his arms.

“Of course I'm serious" he fought back while feeling an unpleasant knot in his stomach that indicated that a very small part of him did want to stay. “I'm not a caretaker.”

Bulma snorted with certain indignation; something that Vegeta hadn't listened for a long time and that unintentionally turned his guts upside down.

“This is just unbelievable”, she grumbled before facing him in the dark, and groping an accusing finger on his shoulder. “Just so you know, I am a sick, helpless lady who needs a little affection”

The young woman withdrew her hand and folded her arms, ignoring Vegeta's possible reaction. The face of whom, if it had not gone through all the possible colours in less than a minute, was very close to it.

“But, anyway, I suppose I'll have to find another more attentive man to have fun with from now on, won’t I?”

“What?” Vegeta was furious in a second like if by reflection, and before he could even stop to think about what he was doing. In the absence of Bulma's reply, he rebuked her, “Hey, that's not fair!”

Bulma put her face away and raised her nose in an offended pose, ignoring his anger on purpose.

“It’s your choice. You can do what you want”

Vegeta clenched his teeth and fists, refraining from doing anything foolish. His insights were torn between his eternal pride, which advocated sending her cherry-picking, and the depths of his heart, which only wanted some understanding. The part, no doubt, that had ended up boosting his relationship with Bulma after almost a year of living in the same house. 

Unwittingly, when Bulma turned to lie on the bed again and a slight reflection from the outside beamed on her face, something stirred inside the Saiyan at the sight of her, so pale and helpless. He didn't want to think it was love - he wasn't so stupid; they just had a good time in bed and flirted from time to time in secret, but nothing else... Right?

“All right, all right” he surrendered after a while in which his heart won the battle, with some effort. 

Bulma turned a little, surprised, but said nothing. 

“I'll stay with you for a while. But at best until dawn" he warned her. “I don't want to get caught here.”

Bulma turned completely and smiled, holding out a hand to invite him to lie on the sheets. Vegeta accepted cautiously and without touching her fingers, though moving almost as if instead of a bed he was on shifting sands. Taking advantage of the fact that Bulma had turned her back again, after lying down, Vegeta allowed himself to relax a little and bury the embarrassing face against the pillow - he was as nervous as ever in his life.

“Vegeta.”

“Hm?”

“Do you know what is coming to my mind right now?

The Saiyan rolled his eyes. Let's see what she was up to now...

“What is it?”

Bulma smiled to herself, without him seeing.

“I was just thinking about the time when we eloped to the Eastern Mountains". Bulma caressed the sheet absently while speaking. “I still remember my father's face when I came back without the minerals I had promised to find. I think he started to think I was going crazy” she admitted, laughing unintentionally.

But she froze a little when a sound, that Bulma had never heard before, reverberated behind her. A short, sharp but masculine and incredibly attractive laugh, that happened as fast as it had come. 

“How funny…" she commented, turning a few millimetres towards him.

“What?” Vegeta replied with a certain dryness, being aware that he had made a slip-on his usual contention.

Bulma, for her part, was not bothered by his tone and added, instead:

“Nothing. I think it's the first time I've heard you laugh... Normally”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Normally?”

“Yeah, you know”. Bulma turned all the way around and squeezed a little between his eyebrows with her forefinger. “Without being angry with the world or wanting to annihilate us all.”

After recovering from the stupor provoked by that comment, Vegeta unwittingly laughed low again and shook his head in disbelief.

“Sometimes you are so weird, Bulma” he said without bitterness.

She made a funny pout in response.

“Weird? That will be you, fellow” she wondered unintentionally while turning her back on him again.

The two then remained silent, their eyes fixed on the gloom, until Vegeta muttered in a very low voice, almost against Bulma's hair:

“It was quite a great elope, though”. The Saiyan was suddenly terrified to see how this confession gave him a strange inner pleasure, just before placing a hand on Bulma's waist. For better or for worse, just remembering the touch of her bare skin he got a hormone party inside. “That cave was a great discovery.”

Bulma nodded slowly.

“It's a place I found when I was very little and I got lost on a trip," she remembered, almost as if for herself. “I always liked going there if I needed to be calm and quiet.”

_And she shared it with me, _though Vegeta, a little terrified. _And that hasn't altered his good memories. Is it possible that...?___

 _ _ _ _  
_No, he decided. It's not the time to go down that road._____

__

__

______ _ _

______ _ _

He only did that because Bulma was sick and needed a little company; but the next day, or when she felt better, everything would go back to normal.

“Bulma.”

“Hm?” she replied, beginning to enter the dream world.

Vegeta hesitated for a moment.

“Good night.”

With her back to him and her eyes closed, the girl smiled. 

“Good night, Vegeta.”

A few hours later, near dawn, Dr Brief went up to see his daughter. He didn't want to believe the results of the analyses, especially suspecting who else might be involved, but there they were. Bulma was expecting a baby and the scientist wasn't sure if she was aware of this fact or not; in fact, he didn't think it was probable. 

How would the news be taken? And the father? What would happen from that moment on?

However, when he arrived in the room and opened the door carefully, some of his doubts disappeared when he saw the two silhouettes that slept embraced; one on the sheets, the other under them. But, knowing what the character of the baby’s future father was like, as the sun began to loom over the horizon, Dr Brief prayed more than ever that his worst predictions would not come true. 

Not if the happiness of his beloved and only daughter depended on it.


	7. Defects and Virtues

A year and a half later...

The night was clear, without a cloud in sight. Hardly a slight breeze ran waving the treetops with a soft, hypnotic melody. Vegeta leaned his forearms crossed on the railing, his gaze getting lost over the dormant buildings around him. So much had happened - it seemed incredible that the world was suddenly taking backs its normal course. 

Of course, using Dragon Balls, no one would have said that the Earth was about to be destroyed. After the battle, the new God had wanted all those killed by Cell to come back to life, so...

Vegeta clenched his fists as the image of his son's chest struck his mind with the violence of a typhoon. The Saiyan shrugged on himself and gritted his teeth, enduring with an effort the chills that followed. Thanks to those magic balls Trunks was alive again; but Vegeta doubted that that fatal moment would stop chasing him in his nightmares, at least for a long time. 

When he landed at Capsule Corp that afternoon, after escaping the battle and resolving that he would never fight again, seriously wounded in heart and pride, he had not even had the courage to tell Bulma what had happened; although she had repeatedly asked him for Trunks, Vegeta had only been able to badly beg her to leave him alone. Then he had locked himself in his bedroom to dive alone in his pain. But the most difficult moment was when his son finally returned from the Palace of God. 

After hearing the turmoil, Vegeta went down to the dining room, where everyone was celebrating the end of Cell’s reign of terror; and Trunks... God, he smiled at him in such a way that the older Saiyan almost felt like vomiting. He didn't deserve to be there. All of them had overcome him: Goku, Trunks - even Gohan. Just thinking about it, he felt like banging his head against the wall until he lost consciousness forever. 

But, unwittingly, as he watched his son and especially Bulma, sitting and laughing by his side, he felt something inside him cracking at worrying speed. He, who had overcome by will and pride the destruction of his people, his legacy and his planet; who had sworn to himself that he would honour his ancestry and become a worthy Saiyan leader no matter what, even if there were five beggars of his race the ones still surviving through the Universe... Now he felt weak before those two sapphire glances. But, honestly: he was tired of fighting. And not just in the physical sense of the word.

For all those reasons, he hardly participated in the festivities and the other members of the Brief family, although they greeted him with courtesy, seemed to respect his desire not to intervene; he was not even hungry, which was already strange in a Saiyan. He just needed to be alone - to stay alone. He didn't want to have to lose anyone else, He didn't want to feel powerless again because he couldn't protect what...

Before he could materialize that thought altogether, a word that terrified him since he had lost everything several decades earlier, Vegeta heard the terrace’s door sliding behind his back; at the same time, a perfume he knew too well reached his nostrils like a soft, accomplice and invisible caress. Vegeta tried to stay calm and not to shake from head to toe; without turning around, but before greeting the newcomer with six simple words:

“What are you doing here, Bulma?”

He didn't hear her footsteps, so he assumed she had stayed by the door.

“I wanted to know how you were," she softly replied.

Then, Vegeta looked at her sideways, as she took a few steps and approached the railing.

“You shouldn’t worry about me," he replied almost out of habit, though he had no strength to be rude and only a sour whisper came out. “Where is Trunks?”

-Oh. He’s sleeping, I think," replied Bulma, before smiling with sincere affection. “He has a long journey ahead of him tomorrow to return to the future. The truth is, I will miss him...”

Vegeta swallowed before interrupting her:

“I wasn't talking about that Trunks in particular…" he clarified, hoarse.

Bulma suddenly fell silent, somewhat surprised, while at the same time trying to assimilate that new question in Vegeta. She still remembered the circus he had put up when she told him she was pregnant - perhaps because of that and also because, deep down, Bulma preferred to be practical first and foremost, she had not asked him to take responsibilities for his son. But, Vegeta suddenly interested in the baby? - that was new. VERY new. Would it have anything to do with what Trunks had told her? With his reaction to seeing him die?

“Ah, oh, well... my mother has him," she replied, after recovering from the shock and before trying to play it down by shrugging her shoulders; in fact, as she always did in front of Vegeta, even though deep down his disinterest in the child had been hurting for almost two years. “You know, she wanted to play the grandmother for a while...”

The Saiyan bowed his chin, eyes closed. The blue-haired girl, unwittingly, got worried. Such a lopsided attitude was not normal for the proud alien warrior; and, even though she had tried, Bulma could not help but feel something very strong for him since quite some time ago.

“Vegeta...” she called him, cautious, without getting any reaction from him. “What...? What's wrong? Can I help you with something?”

After several tense seconds, he finally lifted his head and sighed, to her immense surprise:

“I’m sorry, Bulma.”

Of course, if words had the power to paralyze, at that moment the young woman would have become a wonderful statue. What... He was sorry? Vegeta... apologizing? True that she had seen sides of the Saiyan that no one else knew, but that... What was...?

“Ho...? I…” she asked, insecure. “What...? What do you mean?”

Vegeta clenched her teeth. God, it was so difficult... And yet, before her, he managed to muster enough courage to undress his soul a few inches and let it go, once and for all:

“I'm sorry... I didn't tell you what happened. “I'm sorry... I haven't been able to protect him or avenge him. I'm sorry... I'm not the powerful Saiyan I should be, nor a good father. I...”

Exhausted and more flooded with emotions than ever in his life, Vegeta rested his forehead on his hands and grunted, hiding from Bulma with genuine shame. As he had said to Gohan, deep down he felt like a burden to everyone... He did not...

"Wow... What is going on?"

His cycle of negativity was broken by that one thought in an instant - because, while he was suffering, Bulma had approached him and embraced him. Her blue hair was resting on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his waist, firmly. Slowly, Vegeta stood up and Bulma followed his movement, raising her head and looking into his eyes, but without letting go of his waist. The bottom of her blue irises was a well of total serenity. There was no reproach, no hatred. Just... a deep calm. And some love that the Saiyan felt far from deserved.

“Bulma...” he squawked in a very low voice, astonished.

“Sch, don't say anything," she asked, silencing him with two fingers placed over his lips. “I don't want you to keep feeling sorry for yourself, do you hear me? Never again. You've been through a lot and gone through a lot, Vegeta. But that doesn't make you any weaker or any worse. You have very good qualities and you have to learn to see them for real. Do you hear me?”

Vegeta felt unable to respond in the first place. At that moment, in his nebula of tiredness and self-destruction, he merely fixed his gaze on Bulma's blue eyes; the only ones who had never judged him and had always accepted him as he was. She didn't add anything else either - it wasn't necessary. Slowly, as if it were a rehearsed dance, the two approached little by little. Their noses rubbed, his arms surrounded her waist and Bulma lifted hers to hang from the Saiyan's neck. 

It was a kiss that began with prudence. But, as the seconds passed, it grew in intensity to the point where the world around seemed to disappear. Pain, evil thoughts and resentment dissipated between their tangled lips for a minute that became too short. Even if they didn't admit it out loud, they had both missed each other too much for that damn year and a half.

So when they separated and Bulma took Vegeta's hand, leading him into the building, the two of them knew there was no point in pretending any longer.


	8. To do it right

A few minutes after leaving the terrace, the couple were able to reach Bulma's room without any problems. Luckily, all of Capsule Corp. had gone to sleep and no one could witness indiscreet reconciliation between the harsh Saiyan and the precious human scientist.

The reunion on the mattress was intense, passionate and boosted with mutual anxiety - but, to their mutual delight, they both found that they still understood each other in bed as well or better than the last time. Bulma's pregnancy and Trunks' birth, apart from the training in the distance of Vegeta as an excuse in the following months, had cooled down the relationship to almost the extreme of considering that they could almost go their way, with no possible way back. 

Deep down, they should have known they couldn't help it. 

Their bodies and their mouths were attracted like celestial bodies destined to collide in infinite space. Vegeta, for the first time in his life, felt that he needed something more to hold on to than fighting and revenge. The frost that covered his heart melted every time Bulma looked at him, spoke to him, or cared about him. He couldn't keep going on being so blind. Although that implied being more responsible, his most sensible part shouted out, at least, to try it.

Likewise, and almost for the first time in his life, the Saiyan did not set any hiccups to use the usual protection of the earthlings. After all, last time they had not been effective at all in this respect, using more conventional methods; and for both of them it was clear that, for the time being, they would have to take it slower. 

I'll have enough with a baby to handle at a time, Vegeta thought when they finally lay down panting, side by side and hugging each other between the sheets.

“Well, well...” commented the Saiyan with apparent amusement.

“What?” Bulma smiled, intrigued. “What are you thinking about?”

Vegeta gave a short giggle.

“If you want me to be honest, I was thinking I never dreamed this would happen again.”

Bulma stood on her elbows, smiling with a little more mischief.

“Come on, you're not such a bad lover” she pricked him, non-evil intended but making him turn red with anger in an instant.

“Hey! Who said that?” he asked, folding his arms and frowning even more - as if it was possible. 

But when Bulma laughed, Vegeta inadvertently laughed too and all trace of anger disappeared almost as if by a salad. 

“Hm, as usual, I should have imagined from you," he said, without getting angrier, before lying down again and facing the ceiling. “Although... it's a relief to know.”

“A relief to know what?”

Vegeta grunted and shook his face away. His tongue betrayed him and now he might have just spoiled the moment.

“It doesn't matter.”

Bulma made a pout.

“Vegeta...” she called him in a tired voice. He turned only a few millimetres toward her; not looking at her directly, but with a somewhat penitent expression. “Come on, did you think I was gonna hate you for everything that's happened?”, she asked, incredulous. He did not answer, but it was not necessary: behind his always stony expression, the young woman had long ago learned to read between the lines. So Bulma didn't give up right away and immediately huddled against his side, wishing to erase his concern as it were possible. “I mean, it's true that... Well, you know. But in spite of everything... I couldn't do it," she finally admitted, lowering her head. “Of course, I admit that you are stubborn, proud, mister ‘I can do everything by myself, thank you very much’, and that you also usually go into the rage spiral at the minimum...”, she said without fear, making his frown face her directly with more intensity - as if it was possible. “But you also have good things and skills, even if you hide them from the rest of the world. You're brave, you fight for what matters to you and you don't give up at the slightest change of turns”, Bulma made an indefinite gesture with her shoulders. “Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

Vegeta did not answer right away but reflected a bit, touched by what Bulma had said. To be honest, he would lie brazenly if he didn't recognize that that woman knew him to his core; or that this fact, precisely, didn't bother him nor a bit.

“Do you believe that?”, he asked softly after a while.

Bulma sighed, caressing absently the Greek divinity chest of the Saiyan with one finger.

“You know that I never wanted to force you to act like a father, because I also knew what your wishes and priorities were. And if it's not what you want, I'll never force you to do it," she confessed then in a very low voice, hiding the bitterness with a big determined effort; that was only a half-truth, but she had already learned over time that there was no bond that could tie Vegeta to anyone in the hole Universe, if he didn't want to. “But everything you've suffered in these years... that doesn't make you weaker, on the contrary!” Bulma talked excitedly, raising her chin to look him in the eye. “Despite everything, you created a bond with Trunks by knowing who he was, and it tore your heart apart to see him die. That proves you're a better father than you think," she insisted sweetly. “Or... that you can be.”

He stared at the ceiling, frowning slightly. He seemed to be meditating. Bulma hesitated. She wanted to tell him what she had inside, almost burning her guts, but she wasn't sure how he would react to that - not so soon They had met again after all that had happened with the androids and with Cell and something had changed in Vegeta, but she did not dare to say those three words out loud. It was like breaking a magical moment with nonsense. And Bulma was a practical woman, after all.

“Vegeta” she probed a few seconds later, her head resting on his muscled shoulder.

“Hm?” he said, barely turning his head in her direction and resting his chin on her hair.

Bulma took a deep breath.

“Thank you.”

No - she hadn't been able to say it out loud. But what the young woman did not expect was for the Saiyan to caress her hair, with just one finger, and whisper:

“You're welcome.”

They were silent for a while, until they almost fell asleep, until Bulma whispered:

“Trunks reminds me a lot of you, you know?”

He stirred slightly, half-opening his eyes, but remained within Bulma's embrace as he asked:

“Really?”

She smiled against his skin.

“Yes, on how you both frown.”

“Hey!”

“Okay, okay!” she continued laughing, as she gently lowered the fist he had raised as a reflection. 

Well, well. Isn’t he ‘Mister Proud’ after all…, Bulma thought with fun. 

“Even so, I think it's something I wouldn't trade for anything” 

After that appeasing phrase, the young woman rested thoughtful and Vegeta looked at her with his eyes narrowed; sensing that she was only trying to provoke him as a joke, but without being able to avoid a pang of annoyance on his chest. 

Is that how she sees me?, he thought bitterly.

“Besides, I love knowing he'll be such a handsome boy in the future. I'm sure the girls will fight over him...”

“Haha. Doubt offends” Vegeta replied, jaunty. “He has everything he needs for it”. 

Bulma glanced sidelong at him before smiling, also proud.

“Yes, of course, he does.”

He looked at her intensely.

“I want to be a good father” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising the young woman. “After seeing him die… Even knowing that he could come back to life with the Dragon Balls… I…”

“I know," she gently ran an arm around his waist, inviting him without words not to say what he didn't want to say if it was too painful. “But thanks to what happened now you are also still standing, and you have a whole life to share with him. And who knows, we may see this Trunks of the future again at some point.”

“Yeah, who knows...”, Vegeta showed a half-ironic smile. “For now, we'll have to try to get it right with the small version, won't we?”

Bulma laughed and couldn't help it.

“I love you, Vegeta.”

Unwittingly, time seemed to stop after those four words. Bulma hadn't pretended to be so direct, but she couldn't help it. It was already done. She said it. As she imagined, he looked at her with his eyes like plates for a few seconds and the air thickened between the two for a long moment while Bulma feared the worst. To lose him again, after that night, would be too much for her fragile heart. 

However, something happened that the young woman would not have imagined in her best dreams. After recovering from the surprise, seen and unseen, he took her face and kissed her with a passion different from any of those shown before, with her or with anyone. Bulma, between incredulous and relieved, returned the kiss to him and let herself be laid under the body of the Saiyan without resistance. 

However, he did not penetrate her at once as he had done on other occasions, but descended to place his face next to the lower part of her belly with a lewd half-smile. Bulma, at first, looked at him like a rabbit would look at the fox that is going to devour him; but after feeling Vegeta's tongue recognizing her moisture, Bulma arched backwards and moaned loudly.

They had talked about it sometime - but in the past, Vegeta had almost always rejected any amatory trick that implied an effort on his part. Almost fainted, Bulma thanked the stars again for this other novelty, while he continued his work minute by minute as if he had been doing it all his life. When he ascended again and their faces were at the same height, she wanted to ask; but he kissed her so quickly that the intention came and passed in a sigh. 

That alone was the first symptom; but, from that second time on, the night was not like the previous ones. For the first time, there was delicacy, tenderness and even a certain dose of true love between them. They let themselves be loved and gave and received pleasure like never before from the other, until almost the moment when the sun began to appear on the horizon. In short, they had missed each other so much that, when they finally felt that they could not make love anymore because of exhaustion, she fell asleep in his arms until the sun was very high in the sky, without anyone bothering them. From that day on, a new era began for a new and flourishing love under the dome of Capsule Corp.


	9. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation

When they arrived back at Capsule Corp that night thanks to Goku's Shunkanido, the Brief family immediately went out to greet the exhausted arriving members of it. Bulma and Trunks let themselves be embraced and pampered - more the mother than the son, being honest; while Vegeta remained in a discreet background, keeping the crooked nose. 

Why had they had to leave the fat bastard alive? What if he became a murdering demon again? Kakarot sometimes thought with his...

“Papa, papa!”

Trunks' voice distracted Vegeta from his anger in an instant. His eyes, so similar to Bulma's... He still remembered the moment when he said goodbye to him, believing that he would die forever. And to have been resurrected when he asked everyone to do it, except the wicked... 

Too much to think about, he decided, shaking his head, as he let himself be held by the hand by his eight-year-old son, and guided into the house. 

Bulma smiled for herself when she saw them and followed them, still wrapped up by her parents. 

For the first time in a long while, the five dined together in the large dining room of Capsule Corp, surrounded by the infinite number of pets that lived with them inside the enormous dome. However, Vegeta could not help but have his thoughts elsewhere, so much so that he had little desire or strength to push away some annoying animal when, from time to time, they wanted to make a temporary resting place for his shoulders, his arms, or even his bristly hair. 

His mind, on the other hand, had been fixed for a long time at the moment Babidi had possessed him; at that moment when it had seemed that he would have the opportunity to become once again the most powerful being in the universe. The second in which he had almost lost, he now knew, what mattered most to him in the world. True, he tolerated his father-in-law with a certain sympathy, while his mother-in-law, he could not stand her either in dreams. 

But... Losing Trunks? And Bulma? What the hell had crossed his mind?

As he ruminated his despair and ate only out of impulse rather than real hunger, Vegeta noticed that his wife looked at him from time to time, but he did not dare almost to look back at her; most of all, out of fear of finding the final judgment in her sapphire eyes. The Saiyan struggled to avoid eye contact, keeping his head half down, even until the moment the two went to finally send Trunks to bed. 

How long had it been since we had done so together? Vegeta reflected then, surprised. 

It seemed like an eternity had passed since the last time family labour had been part of the daily routine.

“Papa!”, Trunks called him from his bed, already in his pyjamas.

Vegeta smiled almost unwittingly, returning non-violently to the real world. Being completely honest, although he had wanted to deny it for years, he could not resist the charm of that little one. Bulma was right in saying that they resembled each other when they frowned, but the Saiyan would not trade that for anything of the damn world.

“What is it, Trunks?” he invited him, his arms folded, next to the jamb of the bedroom door.

“You've been very brave," the child smiled, then rose to embrace him. 

Vegeta, after becoming stiff as a stick because of that ‘surprise attack’, finally relaxed and gave him back the hug timidly. The second time in a few days. 

“You're the best Dad in the world.”

Vegeta tried not to get too touched about that candid compliment. 

In the end, it was going to be true that I had heard and everything..., he thought.

“You've done well, Trunks," he said, then separating himself from the little one and pushing him gently back into the bed, taking advantage of the opportunity to camouflage another proud smile on his back. “Now go to sleep, okay?”

“Yes!" accepted Trunks, jumping to bed and wrapping himself in almost the same motion. “Good night, Dad. Good night, Mom.”

Bulma, who had not lost any detail of the scene despite Vegeta's attempts to disguise it, approached to give his adored little boy an intense kiss on the forehead.

“Good night, sweetheart. Sleep well," she wished in a whisper.

But Trunks didn't listen to her anymore. Without even having turned off the light on his bedside table, the little boy had fallen on the pillow and he had even begun to snore softly when his mother separated from him. The woman shook her head, smiling in amusement. Of course, like father, like son.

However, as they returned to their bedroom, Vegeta and Bulma did not exchange any words. As soon as the door closed behind them, he went into the shower muttering a "Well, I..." that almost sounded embarrassed. 

Bulma sighed after being alone in the hallway and chose to continue on the way to the main room; slowly, she changed her street clothes for a thin nightgown and proceeded to de-make up herself with precision, while listening to the water tapping on the other side of the wall and thinking about Vegeta and everything that had happened. 

Despite the relief she had felt knowing he was alive and begging the earthlings for their help, despite the intense love she felt for him, she still did not know how to feel about what he had done before that under Babidi's influence; what she could not doubt was that the fact of thinking she had lost him forever, even though in the end it had been a false alarm, had torn her heart from side to side.  
Vegeta wasn't perfect, nobody in the world was. And yes, she among everyone also knew that his ego led him, more times than desirable, to make greater mistakes than the rest of mortals; and all to continue demonstrating that he was something more than a traitor to Freezer and a powerful prince even without his crown. 

Bulma shook her head, incredulous and somewhat irritated by her husband's childish attitude. Why couldn't he see beyond? Didn't he have everything in life? What the hell else did he want? To her dismay, Bulma was unable to find an immediate response to it; and that alone tormented her even more.

When Vegeta came out of the shower a long time later, covered only with a towel around his well-muscled waist, Bulma, who had leaned against the huge window to watch the sleeping city as she reflected, turned her head slowly to look at him. At least until the moment when Vegeta put his face away and withdrew the towel quietly, just to replace it with his pyjama pants, his back to his wife. 

Without being able to avoid it in spite of the discomfort, Bulma noticed a tender chill running down her back when she saw his perfect, tanned muscles, the small eschar of the ape's tail cut so many years ago; and the scars that covered part of his shoulders and back like crosses marked by fire. The woman felt a prick of envy, as well as another slight prick of desire in the lower abdomen, at the same time. Like her, Vegeta would be in his forties, but in some things, he seemed to be in his thirties. 

However, when he turned and Bulma saw his expression, closed and grim, the desire slightly cooled. Her husband was thinking round on something and his wife suspected what it might be. But, as usual, she preferred that he try to take the first step - She wasn't going to make it easy on him just like that, was she?

When he approached, Bulma had turned again at the sleeping city and he imitated her, on her back, with an elbow resting on the wall; only then did Bulma reach back to take his fingers, with calculated softness. At first, he seemed to tense, but then he accepted and, almost without Bulma being able to avoid it, he surrounded her waist with his arm and drew her towards his body, resting his nose on her hair.

“Forgive me, Bulma.”

(To be continued…)


	10. Another son with you

The woman closed her eyes and threw her head back a few millimetres, sighing. That was a start, in a way…

“Vegeta," she called him, aware that she was about to bring to light a thorny subject. “Are you... happy with me? With us?” she corrected herself, thinking of Trunks. “With your son?”

The fingers girding Bulma's hand twitched for a hundredth of a second and Vegeta snorted forcefully beside his wife's almost naked shoulder.

“Yes - I am. You know that" he said, hoarse, after a few seconds. “But, for a moment, I wanted to feel again... To be again..."

Only now, hugging his wife, he realized what an idiot he had been; he could have lost his family forever because of his selfishness and, thinking coldly, he had to admit that he would have never forgiven himself for that. When Goku had told him that Buu had absorbed them. When they had fled to the Kaio-Shin planet, leaving his son behind at the mercy of the Earth’s explosion - It was too painful just to remember. Therefore, ashamed, Vegeta withdrew abruptly a second later and turned his back on Bulma, beginning to walk towards the bed. 

“I'm an idiot," he said.

But his wife was faster. With a firm gesture, she took his wrist before he walked away and forced him to stop. Vegeta turned, intrigued, seeing no hint of reproach in his wife's eyes. On the contrary, he saw tears, which didn't make him feel any better either. Rather, it was only confirmation of his worst guess: he harmed her - again.

But it is also true that what she did next only confused him further. Without warning and just in a second, Bulma cut off the meter separating them, threw her arms around his neck and embraced him with an unusual strength, while burying her face in the hollow of his collarbone.

“Yes, you're an idiot. One of the worst kind in the whole damn Universe," Bulma said, finally releasing the tension she had endured since everything had been twisted in the Martial Arts Tournament, and making him twitch all the way, being sorry to the core. “But an idiot without whom I would not be able to live” 

Vegeta became even more paralyzed with that statement, as he embraced Bulma almost instinctively and begged, inwardly, that that horrible torrent of tears would stop soaking his shoulder and slipping down his arm - If there was one thing that his hard heart had never been able to stand, since he had fallen in love with Bulma almost over seven years ago, it was to see her cry. 

“When you killed all those people, I didn't want to believe that it was you”, she continued. “I hated you to the bottom of my soul, I didn't think I could even look you in the face again”.

Vegeta held a curse in time as he kept Bulma clinging to her chest and a very unpleasant knot closed over his throat. 

“But when they told me after that you died, I...", Bulma continued, sobbing. “I felt so devastated that...”

Vegeta wrapped his arms around her more intensely, helplessly and hating himself more than ever.

“Bulma” he called her, his lips resting on her short blue hair. 

The cry of the alluded one was cut off a little, expectant before what he had to say; but both remained in the same posture, like two statues trapped in time and space. 

“Don't cry anymore, please. I can't bear seeing you like this.”

Drying her tears, a little, Bulma then separated herself a few inches from him and caressed his face.

“Vegeta, I...”, she whimpered.

He, however, only shut her up quickly with two fingers, as if he had read her mind.

“I know. Don't say it," he replied, instead, before hugging her again. “I will never again let anyone control me or hurt you or Trunks," he said, hoarse. “I promise”.

Bulma smiled against his skin, unresponsive. Little by little, her body stopped shaking and relaxed, cradled in silence by Vegeta's arms. Even if he didn't admit it, he had changed in those years. He had certainly changed. Although he still pretended to be the same proud, cold and distant creature he was twelve years ago when he came to Earth in search of revenge and destruction, she knew him well enough to see behind that curtain with absolute clarity.

“Vegeta.”

“What?”

Bulma smiled, a little embarrassed.

“I've been thinking about it for a while... But I know you're probably going to say no to me," she acknowledged, without raising her head. “After all, it's not like the last time we were very much... You know…”

“Oh, come on, let it go! Don't have me waiting like this!” he begged, impatient. 

But his wife shook her head, stubbornly. Bulma was sure that Vegeta would jump like a spring before that proposal and she didn't want that, not that night. However, she must have known that he wouldn't just give up. 

“Bulma...”

The Saiyan rolled his eyes, withdrew a little and sat on the edge of the bed, tired, as he pulled her closer to him at the same time. She stood in front of the Saiyan, face pomegranate-red, and not knowing what to do. He smiled half-heartedly, with apparent resignation. 

“I don't think that's been true for seven years, do you?”

Bulma still hesitated for a second. But, seeing that he waited with some impatience for her response, she bowed her hands to his knees until she joined her cheek to his to put her lips next to his ear:

“I want to have another child with you," she whispered then, before retiring to check the Saiyan's reaction. 

He looked surprised, but his expression just had changed to a somewhat neutral one, frowning slightly. Bulma reddened, even more, knowing that it had been nonsense as soon as she had materialized it out loud. 

“What do you think...? You...? Ah!”

Before being able to obtain an answer to the latter, seen and unseen, Bulma was thrown onto the bed; her husband's body, clearly ready for action, imprisoned her sweetly against the sheets and now, instead of having a flat face, he smiled with badly disguised lust. But what finally aroused the woman were his next words:

“And what are we waiting for?”

Thus, after kissing with renewed desire and passion, Vegeta and Bulma stripped each other and made love without haste, all night long; enjoying each other's skin rubbing, whispering in each other's ear, and moaning with pleasure as if it were almost their first intimate night ever. 

By tangling their bodies, as always, they felt as if they were one-two pieces perfectly coupled by destiny into one energy, one movement and one desire that pushed them to love each other without contemplation. Besides, all of Vegeta's restraint had been broken the moment he had felt forgiven by her; by his particular blue-haired goddess, by her crystal blue gaze. Sheltering in her arms was like a balm that healed all his wounds, that turned his existence into light and left behind the darkness of the past. 

When they finally fell asleep, exhausted and on the edge of reddish dawn, the last thing Vegeta did before closing his eyes was to gently touch Bulma's flat and perfect belly with his fingers. Deep down, even if he didn't say it out loud, he was thrilled that she asked him to go for a second child; it was a gift that only his proudest side thought he deserved by right. 

But the rational side of the Saiyan, the one who adored Bulma above everything else, was delighted by the possibility of finally doing things right with the gift that his family was. Even if he didn't say it, at that moment he realized how important they were in his life. He had relegated his feelings so deep into his soul that he had thought himself incapable of feeling anything like that for anyone else. But there it was.

Of course, he thought, woe to the one who dares to jeopardize their safety. 

Because, if necessary, the prince of the Saiyan would once again protect them with his own life. And on that occasion, he wouldn't care who he had to surpass to accomplish it.

THE END


End file.
